Whatever talent we possess,
Whatever course we may pursue,
Sometimes we fail to meet success
In things we plan, or try to do.
There is within each human breast
Ofttimes a longing to aspire
To greater things and higher press,
And seek new talent we desire.
Some craves the gift of poetic art
To write on pamphlet or on scroll,
And satisfy a yearning heart,
The impulse of a poetic soul.
Each one can only do their best
Whate'er may be their daily role,
Though we at times may be depressed
In failing to achieve our goal.
We may improve as time goes by,
Let's do our best tho' it be frail,
And welcome critics when they try
To show us where we sometimes fail.
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